


Gotham's White Knight

by XPsypher



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Bisexuality, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Canon-Typical Violence, Court of Owls, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City Police Department, Isekai, No meta rule? What's that?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, This is gonna be a TRIP let me tell you, Young Bruce Wayne, updates will be sporadic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XPsypher/pseuds/XPsypher
Summary: Bruce Wayne is intelligent, confident, and a force of nature.I'm none of those things.--------TL;DRA woman gets reincarnated into the body of a young Bruce Wayne and has to deal with the consequences.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Martha Wayne & Thomas Wayne, Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Clark Kent & Other(s), Bruce Wayne & Martha Wayne & Thomas Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Other(s), Bruce Wayne & Thomas Wayne Jr. | Owlman, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Harvey Dent & Bruce Wayne, Jack Drake & Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne, John Constantine & Bruce Wayne, Justice League & Bruce Wayne, Leslie Thompkins & Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen & Bruce Wayne, Rogues Gallery (Batman) & Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle & Bruce Wayne, Thomas Elliot & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. Bats In A Well

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Not only is this my first Batman fanfiction, its the first time in a long time that I have posted fanfiction in general.
> 
> Things have been pretty shitty IRL so this fic is gonna be stress relief for me. I should also warn all of you that my batman knowledge comes from the multitude of animated T.V. series and movies that I've watched over the years.
> 
> These series include:
> 
> Batman TAS  
> The Batman  
> Justice League TAS/ Unlimited  
> Young Justice  
> Son of Batman  
> Batman vs Robin  
> The Nolan Trilogy
> 
> I have never managed to get a hold of an actual batman comic. Anything comic related I only know from lore videos/summaries, other fanfiction and general fanon.
> 
> This is a general love letter anything and everything batman related. 
> 
> Also, don't expect any ships anytime soon. Romance will come later, its just hard for me to write.

* * *

I was walking down an empty street and it was a tree that killed me.

What the hell.

I mean it could have been worse, I could have been hit by a car, but a tree seriously?! Out of all the things in the world, but I'm getting ahead of myself. What's more important now is that I died.

I was _dead_ and now there was nothing but darkness.

Except, as I listened in, and the fog lifted. Sensation returned to my limbs and I was suddenly _alive_ and engulfed by the fluttering of wings. My head pounded as I tried to move and I winced, noticing that my neck had been resting at an odd angle. I wasn't laying face first on a street anymore. Where ever I was was cramped, cold and jagged. I could feel rocks digging against my back and that pain was enough to kick me into gear.

I was in an old well, facing upward enough to see the bats escaping into the sky. Ignoring the pain in my body. My mind was filled with questions, questions that would soon be answered by the call of a frantic voice.

"Master Bruce! Where are you?!"

Something inside me felt pulled to respond, and though I couldn't place it, it sounded familiar.

"Master Bruce..." I mumbled and hissed as I tried to sit up. My right arm was defiantly broken and my neck hurt like hell. I almost didn't want to look but I knew if I didn't my mind would only grow more concerned, so I bit the bullet and looked.

That was when my mind blanked.

My right arm wasn't my right arm.

The light from the hole was enough for me to see clearly but I had to blink multiple times for me to accept that what was there was actually real. My right arm was small and white. The last time I checked I was black and wearing a hoodie.

What the fuck?!

"Master Bruce!"

The voice, that sounded like It crawled straight out of an 1800's British period drama, jolted me back to reality. Staring down at me with an expression mixed with relief and worry was a thin white man with a mustache. He ran a gloved hand through his balding brown hair as he assessed my injuries.

"Young man how in the world did you get down here?!"

I stared up at him in shock. He was talking to me. Why was he talking to me?! As my mind was reeling I quickly remembered that he was still talking, but only managed to catch the last thing he said.

"--so stay right there and don't move. I need to find your father."

He disappeared before I could even get in a single word.

I stared at the empty space as I thought, and as I thought the pieces started to slowly come together.

No. It wasn't-it couldn't be possible.

That man was looking for Master Bruce and when he saw me he looked so relieved. But I remember the crushing weight of that tree so firmly. I know what I looked like. The arm that was throbbing at my side was not it.

So as I heard the approaching of more footsteps and frantic curses, I did the only thing my body wanted.

I slept. Hopefully it was all just a bad dream.

It wasn't.

* * *

Thomas Wayne carded a hand through his son's hair as he sat by his hospital bed. He looked so fragile, so unlike bubbly four year old he knew so well.

Being a doctor Thomas couldn't help but run through the injuries his boy suffered in his mind: A broken right arm, blunt force trauma to the head, a severe neck fracture. Though he didn't want to admit it, he and the ER doctor both agreed that the fall Bruce took should have killed him.

Martha was furious, obviously, when they both came to that conclusion. However that mattered little knowing that his son managed to survive.

How? Thomas didn't really care. All that mattered was that his boy got to live.

He turned to glance at his wife, who slept silently by his side, a hand resting on her raised belly.

Whatever came after this, they all would face it together. His new child could not lose their chance to have a brother.


	2. I See Dead People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our main character deals with her death and new life (kind of).

I've never woken up in a hospital bed before.

I've also never woken up to two strangers watching over me. A man and a woman both in their early thirties and wearing clothing, while casual, screamed wealthy elite.

The woman, who was pregnant, leaned over to grab my hand. Her smile was watery and her blue eyes were red from crying.

"Its okay baby, everything is fine. How are you feeling?"

I was too stunned to say anything. In my defence, they were probably pumping me with enough drugs to make my brain feel like mush. Everything was muddled and the only thing I could do was let out a groggy groan.

"Who...."

"Yes dear?" The woman leaned in with hope in her eyes.

"Who are you?"

The woman's face seemed to flash through five emotions at once. She elbowed the man beside her sharply in his side.

"Get the doctor. _Now_." She ordered and he was out of his seat in a heartbeat, rushing out the door for help. 

As I was being assessed I couldn't help but stare at the couple. Not because I didn't know who they are, when I heard their names everything clicked. It was because I couldn't get over the fact I'd seen dead people.

Soon to be dead people, to be exact.

Martha and Thomas Wayne. Owners of Wayne Industries and parents to Bruce Wayne i.e. Batman. How could I not know them, their deaths were basically a trope in of itself.

I ignored the drabble the doctor was spewing at the Waynes to retreat into my mind. There was too much to go through but I had to think through this situation.

I died. Check.

I've reincarnated. Check?

I'm stuck inside the body of Bruce Wayne. Check.

Im trapped inside the DC universe? Possible check.

I hoped and prayed that the last one wasn't true. Sure I'd be a dream to meet your favorite superheroes but to actually have to live and work beside them. You had to be crazy to actually want that to be a reality.

I bit my lip. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry.

"Chum."

The soft baritone of Thomas Wayne's voice caught my attention and I quickly realized everyone's eyes were on me.

"The doctor would like for you to answer some questions. Do you think you can do it?" Thomas cocked his head to the side. I could tell by the tremble in his hands that he wanted to hold my hand but was afraid of scaring me.

I looked at the doctor, a lanky fellow with glasses, and frowned. Playing the amnesia card was the safest bet since I knew next to nothing about Bruce's early life other than the basic points. So I nodded and mentally prepared for the questions to come.

"Can you tell me your name?"

I scrunched up my face like I was in deep thought. "Bruce?"

The doctor smiled. "And your last name?"

"...Wayne?"

"Good! Good." He scribbled something down on the clipboard. " Now, can you tell me who these people are?"

He points in the direction of Martha and Thomas. I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out a response fit for a child.

"My....parents?" I tried.

"And their names?"

"...Martha and Thomas."

Whatever relief Thomas and Martha had after the first few questions died fast when the next ones hit. Outside of some basic geography, I knew practically nothing about the prior events that led up to the fall. At least I could blame it on the memory loss.

But I wasn't out of the woods yet. I apparently had another week before I was fit to leave. So in the mean time I had enough time to at least try and get used to things.

It was hard. Everything about this body was weird. I was lighter than I was used to and my coordination was a mess, but that was nothing compared to the different hardware downstairs.

That was something I didn't want to think about, not yet.

At least peeing was easier.

When the time came to leave I was suddenly reluctant to go. Leaving the hospital doors meant facing whatever was outside. And I didn't think I would be ready to see Gotham in the flesh, but in the end it didn't matter what I thought.

In the first five seconds I was outside my first impression of Gotham was a perceptual sense of _gloom._ It was like New York on a foggy day, if New York's whole aesthetic was gothic architecture.

The ride back was uncomfortably silent. I was sandwiched between Martha and Thomas while Alfred drove.

I could tell a lot from the looks he gave through the rear view mirror and the hushed conversation Martha and Thomas were having above me. I couldn't really make anything out and by the time things were starting to get heated Alfred cut in like a knife.

"We have arrived."

Nothing I could say could put the Wayne Manor to justice. It was simply a sight to behold.

I felt like a kid at Christmas but that excitement was reigned in as we exited the car. Martha shuffled ahead with Alfred following behind. Thomas, with a sigh, helped me through the front door and guided me to my room.

Dinner was a quiet event that night. I had a lot of things to think about.


	3. The Beginnings Of A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our main character starts a journal as Martha and Thomas try to bond with varying degrees of success.

I knew nothing about Thomas and Martha Wayne's personalities going into this.

Sure they seemed like caring parents from my brief experience at the hospital, but that should be the expected reaction after seeing their child suffer grievous injuries. So it was a pleasant surprise to know that they were as great as the comics made them out to be, if comparing fictional characters to "real" people made any difference. During my recovery they made an effort to be around me, which was commendable considering how tight their schedules were.

If I wasn't at the manor being tended to by Alfred Martha would take me out to visit her workplace, since a hospital was apparently no place for a child to be. I made no fuss over it, like there was anything else for me to do. It was 1982 and I had no smartphone or internet to save me from immeasurable boredom. So with all other options dashed, the only things I could do was read or write. TV, as I was told, tended to rot the brain.

So I wrote.

Getting a journal was the easy part, writing on the other hand was hard, being that I was in the body of a four year old and that my writing hand was broken. But I kept at it, using the journal not only to document all my worries and stresses but my knowledge of the Batman lore as a whole.

Comic canon was always wonky, which made it hard for when you want to get facts straight for a character. In my whole twenty-four years of life I never called myself a hardcore fan of the dark knight. I was more on the casual side and only in recent years had I started to dive a bit more deeply. Looking back on it now, I'm definitely glad I did.

So as I sat on my bed, I focused on the differences, the most glaring being that Martha was pregnant.

Martha was never pregnant with a second child in the cartoons and films that I've seen. Bruce's childhood was barely even mentioned outside of dreary flashbacks. But since that this world was "real" it only made sense for the parents of an only child to want to have another member of their family, especially if those parents were the Wayne's.

But this was the DC universe, rarely anything good comes out of events like this especially if you were Bruce Wayne. I frowned as I scribbled on the page. There were many things I had to prepare for, but for now the most important objective was making sure that the pregnancy went without any problems.

Who knows, maybe giving Bruce Wayne a sibling would be enough to stop the later catastrophe from happening.

I could only hope and try.

* * *

Martha snorted when she approached her son's bedroom. The light was still on meaning that her boy was still up after she had tucked him in for the night. She was lucky she even managed to catch him, the only reason she was up at this ungodly hour was because of late night cravings and a fussy baby. She had hoped that a brief walk through the manor would have calmed her nerves. Now she had another reason to be awake.

With a sigh she opened the door and struggled to reign in another snort at the surprised look on Bruce's face.

So cute.

"What are you doing up? You should be in bed" She frowned but only for a little bit. It was hard to stay mad at her son when he puffed up his cheeks and pouted. He closed the journal in his lap and held it to his chest.

"I wanted to write."

Martha quirked her brow. "At two in the morning?" 

"Yes. I-I couldn't sleep."

Bruce bowed his head as Martha sat on the edge of the bed. She ruffled his hair before gently pulling him in for a hug. "You need your sleep dear. It'll make you big and strong."

"But-"

"No butts." She poked the tip of his nose and chucked at how it scrunched in irritation. "You're almost five love and you'll need all of that energy for school."

As she rubbed his shoulder she plucked the journal from her son's hands, and without looking, stowed it away in the drawer of the bedside nightstand. Martha then pulled away and coaxed her son to lay down so she could tuck him in again. She watched silently as Bruce chewed on his lip, a tell that he wanted to ask something.

"What is it sweetheart?" She prodded.

"Do I have to go?"

"To school? Yes, you do but we can talk tomorrow over a bowl of cereal. For now-" Martha bent to plant a kiss on his forehead and turned the light off. "-it's time to sleep."

With one last goodbye Martha stepped out of the room and closed the door with a sigh. She rubbed her stomach and hummed a tune as she walked back to the Master Bedroom.

Thomas would probably be worried by then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another update. Martha and Thomas's characters are hell for me to write already, I don't know how I'm gonna get through the school years.


	4. Play The Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and school starts. Feels happen.

Days turned to weeks and eventually, my braces would come off. Physical therapy was never a fun experience from the times that I had gone before dying, and yet somehow they managed to make it fun this time around.

The perks of being a rich kid I guess.

I was eventually deemed well enough by the doctors to run and play. However, running and playing hasn't been something that I'd done in a long time. Time changes a person and some adult things can be hard to unlearn.

Luckily for me, because of my small body, it was hard to ignore the absurd amount of childish energy swirling in my gut. It was like a dog scratching at a door, begging to be let out.

I held out for a long while, escaping to the enormous library inside the manor, or walking through the gardens, Alfred always in sight.

But it had to be let out eventually and that opportunity came in the form of school.

Pre-school to be exact.

* * *

Thomas fixed the dark necktie around my neck. His steady hands were almost a quivering mess, messing up motions that should already be second nature to him.

Eventually the tie was tied and Thomas took a second to breath before clapping me lightly on the shoulders, motioning for me to turn around. I did so and stared at the mirror behind me. Thomas's reflection stood up with a proud smile on his face.

"What do you think chum?" He asked.

"...Weird."

"Weird?" He chuckled. "Care to share?"

I turned from side to side and made myself pout. The school uniforms that I had been used to never had so many parts. I felt way too overdressed. A dark blue blazer, a tie, dress shirt and dress shorts, dark socks and a pair of shiny black shoes.

It was a cute look but also a bit creepy. I looked like one of those old porcelain dolls you'd find in an old attic. I rocked back and forth on the soles of my feet before I answered.

"I feel like I'm going to a gala."

Thomas laughed and pulled me in for a hug. I was stiff in his grip, had been ever since I came back from the hospital, but he didn't mind. "At least you wont be surrounded by wrinkly old people. You'll be with kids your age, won't that be fun?"

My mouth thinned at the prospect of that and despite me wanting to voice my displeasure, something inside me stopped me in my tracks.

"...yeah." I agreed, slumped shoulders betraying my words.

And that was that. The rest of the morning was a blur. I barely remember getting into the car and by the time I realized I had arrived the door to the backseat had already opened.

"Master Bruce?"

Alfred stood by the open door with his hand outstretched, he had a worried look in his eye.

I blinked away the sudden rush of embarrassment and unbuckled myself, taking his hand as I gingerly stepped down on the pavement.

The building before me looked nothing like an elementary school, but with a name like Gotham Elementary Prep, I expected no less. Like Gotham Academy, GEP was were the Gotham elite sent their kids to study.

A large hand ruffled my hair and I looked up to see Thomas smiling, Martha was beside him trying not to cry. They spoke reassurances to me and to each other and I was forcefully moved to pose for an exuberant amount of pictures. It was embarrassing but I said nothing, I even let the two of them hug me afterwards. It was only right that I give them this, a huge milestone for them and for their son, but I couldn't help but feel awkward.

I wasn't their son.

I wasn't their Bruce and they didn't know.

And despite that, I couldn't escape the look in their eyes. I knew that the love that they had for "me" was true. So despite my judgment, I hugged back just as hard.

It's what I expected the real Bruce to do.

* * *

Martha and Thomas Wayne shadowed their son like hawks, walking him to his homeroom and meeting the teacher, She seemed like a lovely young woman; tall and thin with a carefully maintained up-do that was all the rage these days. They gave the boy one final hug before retreating from the building/

"Everything to your liking I assume?" Alfred quipped when they returned to the car.

"It seems to be Al, though I didn't mean to give Ms. Robinson such a fright."

Martha huffed as she rubbed her belly. "You can never be too careful. I will not have any teachers undermine our Brucie."

"She hasn't even done anything-"

"Yet. She hasn't done anything yet."

Thomas rolled his eyes and stared at Alfred through the rear-view mirror and Alfred stared right back.

Guess he was alone on this one. Thomas sagged in his seat, intertwining Martha's free hand with his. "We'll just have to put our faith in the teachers to keep Bruce safe...right dear."

Martha was silent so Thomas took that for a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this story is starting a bit slow, but I need all the set up I can get for the future.
> 
> So sorry in advance.


	5. A Familiar Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our main character is in pre-school, it goes as well as you'd expect. Our first friend makes an appearance. He's not who you'd expect, or maybe you did idk.

Children were evil little devils. They never liked me in my previous life and I had no hope that they would ever like me in this new one. As I walked down the halls of Gotham Elementary Prep, the horrifying fact that I would be stuck surrounded by literal _children_ for the next eighteen years of my life sunk in.

The urge to run out of the front doors was enticing, but I was sandwiched between Martha and Thomas. So I regretfully dragged my feet as I was led to the gallows filled with childish squeals and laughter.

"Good morning!." The voice of a young woman greeted us as we stepped into a large classroom. The walls were covered in bright colors. Poorly drawn images of plants and animals, likely from previous classes, were displayed on a large bulletin board at the front. On the chalkboard was a general welcome in easy to read font.

Across the room was a small play area already occupied by a few kids. Standing in front of it was a young woman with frizzy blond hair, horned rimmed glasses, and shockingly pale skin. She gave us a wave before turning to separate two angry children.

"I'm so sorry, my assistant stepped out for a bit-"

"It's quite alright." Thomas chuckled. "I'd offer a hand to shake but it looks like you have your hands full." He ruffled my hair before motioning at Martha and I. "I'm Thomas and this is my wife Martha and our son Bruce."

"It's an honor to meet you two," The teacher beamed. " You both do good work for this city. I'm Angela Carter," Her gaze switched towards me. "And its great to meet you too Bruce, you'll love it here."

My eye twitched as I watched a child by a desk try to eat a tube of glue. I said nothing.

I continued to say nothing as Thomas and Martha left, after an enormous amount of hugs and forehead kisses. Some of the kids nearby snickered at the overly elaborate display of affection, but I didn't care. From what I had seen, It was highly unlikely that their parents gave them affection at all.

* * *

My class held twenty-five children in all and by the second week I only remembered half of their names. If given the chance I would have put in more effort to get to know them, but unfortunately my presence parted them like the red sea. It was even more obvious when it came time for recess. I often found myself alone on the swing set sulking like an Adams Family reject.

But being alone was something I was used too, so I made due.

I put more effort into my homework assignments, if you could even call them that, and found solace in reading quietly on the sidelines. This would do no favors in developing my social skills of course, but why even bother? It made no sense to make friends with them, not when I was more mentally mature. That and well, when even the other quiet kids of the group steered clear of you, I knew then that it was not worth it to even try.

The Wayne family name probably had something to do with it, if the snide looks Thomas and Martha got from other parents meant anything. It was confusing because, as far as I knew Martha and Thomas were good people, they were the ones trying to make Gotham a better place. What would the parents of these kids gain from telling their children not to interact with me? That uncomfortable thought never left me no matter how hard I tried.

The answer came to me by the end of the month during lunch. I was in a daze pondering over the the same thought when my eyes glanced at the school emblem. It was a nice emblem and an extremely simple one for a school that had such a long history. It was emerald green with a gold Latin phrase I had forgotten the meaning of. Hovering above it was the piercing gaze of an owl.

An _owl._

The gears in my head clicked and I felt myself go pale.

"Bruce," Angela look over her book at me from her desk. "Is everything okay?" Her skin was almost white under the florescent light.

I stared at my lunch, a PB&J sandwich and a bag of chips, and whimpered. "I-I think I'm gonna be sick."

She was by my side in almost an instant, and as much as I wanted to flinch from her touch, I let her guide me to the nurse's office.

We were both greeted by a silver haired woman with sharp cheekbones and crow's feet. She seemed to be in the middle of tending to a red headed boy with scrapes on his knees.

"Ms. Carter and..." The nurse's steel eyes glanced over me clinically. She made no effort to hide the snide curl of her lips as she said my name. "...Mr. _Wayne_ , what a surprise. If you hadn't noticed I happen to be in the middle of something important."

Angela squeezed my shoulder empathetically . "We're both terribly sorry for-"

"Out with it Ms. Carter. We don't have all day." 

An irritated look flashed in Angela's eyes before she hid it with a cough.

"I-I looked up from my desk to see Bruce here pale over his lunch." She began, looking down at me with her mouth thinned in a tight line. "I think whatever he ate disagreed with his stomach. Is that right Bruce?"

My stomach answered before I could. I felt the rush of nausea hit me like a freight train, and I all but flung myself towards the nearest thing I saw before I blew.

I hugged the trash can for dear life, curling my body around it like it was the anchor to my world. My mind pushed out the startled yelp of Angela and the annoyed sigh from the nurse, forcibly hurling at me the horrifying connection I made only minutes prior.

The Court Of Owls. It had to be, nothing would make sense otherwise. I was growing up with the children of the Gotham Elite, why wouldn't the schools have a connection to that creepy rich people cult. It would explain the treatment the kids gave me and it also meant that I wasn't safe here either. A shudder rattled throughout my body as I thought of the implications.

"Mr. Wayne. Sit up for a second boy."

It was the nurse's voice. I could see her frown from my teary eyes. I obeyed albeit reluctantly, leaning back just enough before I felt a cool cloth clean my face.

Hands gripped my arms to help me stand and a cup of fizzy soda, what I assumed to be ginger ale, was gently given to me.

The nurse tossed the cloth in the sink, barely looking at me as she peeled off the plastic gloves on her hands. "There's a seat next to that boy over there, take it. Ms. Carter, a word if you don't mind."

I took a tentative sip of soda as Ms. Carter was led towards the front of the nurse's office. They spoke in hushed whispers but I didn't bother to eavesdrop, angering the nurse seemed like a bad idea.

The boy was silent when I sat down. His head was bowed, staring at the scrapes on his knees that were patched with colorful Band-Aids. He had a white knuckled grip on his seat. 

"Quit it."

I took a sharp breath when I realized that he was glaring at me through his hair. "Quit what?"

He made a vague gesture at my face. " Staring at me. It's creepy."

I took a gulp of soda to hide my flush of embarrassment. If I caught some strange kid staring at me I would be freaked out. No wonder the kid was mad.

"Sorry." I ducked my head and fiddled with my plastic cup. "I just...haven't seen you before."

"Well duh." He obnoxiously rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be caught dead with pre-schoolers."

This kid. I held back a chuckle but a smile managed to slip through. I was starting to like him more by the second. "I thought you were from another homeroom."

He looked at me like I grew a second head. "What are you talking about? You guys are all pipsqueaks compared to me!"

To be fair, he was a head taller than me and had much more baby fat compared to me.

"Its not my fault you're freakishly tall."

"Hey!"

"Inside voices please." The Nurse glared at us with a landline held to her ear. We hunched in our seats but the red haired boy sneered back at her.

"Bitch." He hissed.

My eyes bulged out of my head. "You can't just say that!" I whisper-yelled.

He shrugged "My dad says it all the time and no one tells him no."

I sucked in a gasp. That wasn't what I expected to hear and I liked none of what he said. But one thing that I knew for sure was that I already hated his father, and I hadn't even meet the man.

I scrambled to change the subject. "So why are you here?"

"Some jerk called me tomato head so I punched him in the face. His friends weren't happy, like I cared about what they thought."

He leaned back on the chair. He looked relaxed but his eyes flicked over at the door every few seconds.

"Then why were you scared?"

The boy scrunched his nose. "I wasn't scared, I'm _mad._ I'm in trouble, I made a scene. That means that they'll call..."

The door to the nurse's office opened revealing the thin frame of GEP's principal. Behind him was a tree of a man with angry red hair and equally angry brown eyes. The dark suit he had on was rumpled at the collar.

"...my dad."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight. No father should ever look at their child that way. My heart sunk as I glanced back at the boy.

"What's your name?"

He snickered, the psycho. "You're asking that now?"

"Thomas. We're leaving."

Thomas's father stared at the two of us before returning to his conversation with the principal. The plastic cup squeezed in my hand as I watched the boy stand.

He let out a sigh before he turned towards me, holding out a hand. "Thomas Elliot, but my friends call me Tommy."

I gave a hearty shake. "Bruce Wayne."

"Thomas!"

Tommy's head jerked back towards the door. "Coming Father."

His attitude shuttered behind an emotionless mask and stiff posture. All I could do was watch him march off and wonder why his name felt so familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....hehehe
> 
> I have a good reason for not updating in a while but im not gonna tell.
> 
> In the mean time my time away from uploading allowed me to plan out where this is even going. So we all should be happy that I have a general outline of how everything is going to turn out. Thomas wasn't supposed to appear in this chapter but he didn't care about what I thought. Thomas is going to be a hard character to write for me. I know next to nothing about him save for what I have read, it's a good thing that things are gonna change...probably. I also added a few more tags take those for what you will.
> 
> In the mean time I've been researching facts about our caped crusader. Did you know he has a magic gene? Well I didn't. This changes a lot of things.
> 
> I think this is the longest chapter I've written so far for this fic. Writing kids dialogue is hard. I hope everything is understandable.


End file.
